


D

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [18]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, Branding, F/F, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Control, Pet, Voyeurism, bond, dark!fic, enslavement, evil!Merlin, non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is punished by Dracula.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the warnings.

Gwendolyn didn’t understand why Morgana rather than Arthur accompanied her home; of course she didn’t. Arthur mumbled something about business while Gwendolyn wailed about no business taking precedence over her dear father’s death. And she was right; but the Count’s eyes pierced Arthur, holding him there, and quite frankly, Arthur wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave.

Gwendolyn’s sobs faded as Morgana led her from the room, arm wrapped about her shoulders. It was best that Morgana take her anyway, Arthur told himself, as she could best deal with Leander if he were still at the Hasting’s house.

The other two sisters seemed to fade away as Dracula led Arthur into the sitting room.

“Perhaps you don’t understand that you and I are meant to be together,” the Count said quietly. “Perhaps I will have to remove this most unwanted problem. It will be a shame, as Miss Hastings seems a lovely woman.”

“No,” Arthur croaked. “You can’t.”

The Count looked at him sharply, beautiful lips curving downward.

“You…you wouldn’t.”

“Let me show you a possibility.”

The Count led Arthur to crouch before the fire. With a wave of his hand, Dracula transformed the flames and there appeared a scene within them as clear as though Arthur looked into a room.

Gwendolyn stood in what Arthur recognised to be the parlour of Dracula’s Castle, her features confused and frightened.

“Hello?” she called out. Presently, the doors opened and Arthur cringed at the appearance of Cenred and Gwaine.

Gwendolyn gave the men a hesitant smile.

“Hello, I ---I think I was brought here by mistake, you see I—“

“No mistake,” Cenred said. “You’re for us, you see.”

“I’m for…what do you mean?” Gwendolyn backed away from him.

“You’re for us. Me and Gwaine.” He indicated his companion, who immediately transformed into a snarling, vicious wolf before their very eyes.

Gwendolyn screamed, running to put the sofa between her and the growling animal. Gwaine bared his long, sharp teeth and crept closer to her. Gwendolyn hitched her skirts up, climbing over the couch to run, but Cenred grabbed her by the arm, wrenching her around so that her back was pressed to his front, and held her still. Arthur could see her trembling in Cenred’s grip, her eyes large with fear. Cenred held her in front of him by her forearms as the wolf crept closer, nosing the floor at her feet, and then up under her skirts until his muzzle was in her crotch.

Arthur had never even seen Gwendolyn’s bare legs, and he tensed at the sight of Cenred pulling her skirts up to her waist and ripping at her under clothes so that the wolf could sniff and lick at her centre. Gwendolyn cried out and tried to struggle, but Cenred wedged her legs open with his own. His big hand tore open her bodice, revealing her white chemise, and then the wolf shredded that with his great claws until Gwendolyn’s breasts were exposed, scratched and bloodied.

“Down on all fours,” Cenred ordered, pushing Gwendolyn away from him.

“Stop!” Arthur stumbled back from the fire, falling onto his arse. “Stop! I don’t want to see this!” The scene died away to be replaced by the crackling flames.

The Count looked down at him. “This is only one option. There are many others.”

“I could convince her to go away.”

“How?”

“I’ll break off the wedding. Make sure she leaves London.”

The Count looked at him, unconvinced. “She seems a headstrong girl.”

“I will make sure of it. Please.” Arthur took the Count’s hand, running his fingers over the skin. “Let me try.”

Dracula nodded once before pulling Arthur to a standing position and kissing him.

“Now for your punishment.”

***

In the parlour of Carfax Manor, Arthur hung nude by the arms from a large hook secured in the high ceiling, his toes barely scraping the Turkish carpet.

Morgana had returned, as had Leander and Will. Arthur hadn’t dared asked about Gwendolyn.

Yvette, Marcella, Cenred, and Gwaine also sat about the room. Will perched on Leander’s lap, one hand rubbing himself while his eyes ran over Arthur’s nude form.

Morgana filed her nails. Cenred looked as though he eagerly awaited blood to be drawn.

The Count stood before Arthur, his dark hair curling about his ears and neck with sweat as he stalked about, brow furrowed. Arthur tried to balance on his toes in order to get the weight off his arms, but it wasn’t easy. His heart beat hard in his chest, and his cheeks were hot with shame. He couldn’t stop the sway of the chains, and repeatedly twirled on them, exposing his front and then his backside to the group in turn.

He heard Will come with a groan, and Leander’s soft chuckle.

“You are my blood mate,” the Count finally said, voice close to Arthur’s ear. Arthur wished he’d blindfold him, so he wouldn’t have to see them all watching.

“I don’t want to be like him,” Arthur said defiantly, eyes moving to Will reclining on Leander’s lap, crotch now damp and sticky.

“He isn’t a blood mate. He’s a pet.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

The Count brushed his hands along Arthur’s bare sides, making him jump. His cock twitched, and Marcella laughed.

“I have lived for thousands of years, Arthur.”

“What?”

“Dracula, the son of Dracul. I have lived for thousands of years. And my mate, my _blood mate,_ is said to have hair of the richest blond.” Here, Dracula began stroking Arthur’s hair. “I knew it was you as soon as I saw you, my angel, my own.” He kissed Arthur’s neck, and Arthur gasped, back arching. Dracula reached around with both hands and stroked Arthur’s nipples, continuing to kiss his neck and lave at it with his tongue.

“Please…” he begged, wanting the bite.

“No, my angel. This is your punishment for touching that woman.” Dracula squeezed Arthur’s nipples, making him cry out. “For calling her your fiancée.” He twisted them painfully while Arthur writhed, his arse moving against Dracula’s clothed groin. Arthur could feel his hardness. “For letting her hold you and call you her _love!_ ” Another sharp twist in the other direction.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut at the pain. Morgana snorted derisively. Arthur heard sucking sounds and opened his eyes to see Will kneeling between Leander’s legs.

“Cenred,” the Count said softly, and Cenred grinned, disappearing from the room. “Gwaine.”

Gwaine stood and began fiddling with the base of the chain, lowering Arthur’s arms. Arthur heaved a sigh of relief until he found himself draped over Gwaine’s lap, held firmly by supernaturally strong arms.

“Here, Master,” Arthur heard Cenred say.

“This, Arthur,” Dracula said, “will not only remind you that you are mine, but it will forever let everyone know you are mine if they get intimately close to you—which they had better not. It will also please me more than you can know to see it.”

“W-what is it?” Arthur asked fearfully, sweat breaking out over his face.

“A perfectly stylized D,” Dracula said, and Arthur heard the rattle of the bucket just before Gwaine and Cenred lifted and parted his legs and a searing hot brand pressed to Arthur’s perineum.

Arthur screamed as what seemed at first to be cold and then unbearably hot pain consumed him. His throat became raw and voice hoarse, and then all went mercifully black.


End file.
